An Interaction with SFI Delhi
Simran, Ananya, Ursula and Sanam
“We dont have games period now because of pollution”….”we get only daal chawal for mid-day meals, no protein no vegetables”…”our teacher recruited my classmates to RSS”… These are just a few among the many deeply concerning facts revealed by students about their schools during an interaction series conducted by SFI Delhi to document the experiences of students from government and private schools in Delhi under the Modi regime. In the past eleven years of Modi governance, the school education system has witnessed grave negligence and induced stagnation. Mass school closures, push towards privatisation, manipulation of curriculum to suit the saffronisation agenda etc. are among the many crises plaguing the school education system in India today, owing to the anti-public education policies of the RSS-BJP-Corporate nexus. In the national capital too, ruled by the BJP, government schools are crumbling and private schools are bleeding students dry through exorbitant fees, with little to no intervention from the government to improve the situation. Students, as young as 12 years old to those studying in classes 11 and 12, spoke to SFI about what they believe is going wrong in their schools and how they want things to change for the better…

Empty playgrounds, broken computers, ebbing mid-day meals
The reality of schooling under the Modi regime is etched in the crumbling infrastructure of Delhi’s government schools. For students like Arohi and Abhay, the promise of ‘quality education’ rings hollow amidst empty playgrounds and classrooms filled with broken computers. “The computer lab has not been upgraded for years,” shares Abhay, a Class XI student of a government school. “We read about India being Vishwaguru, but our school has only 1 raggedy football in the name of sports equipments.” This tangible neglect is a metaphor for a system starved of investment and attention.
The midday meal scheme, once a crucial incentive for attendance and nutrition, is now a symbol of retreat. Portions have shrunk, and quality has plummeted. “The dal is just watery now, and we often get stale bread,” says Arohi, a class VII
student of a Sarvodaya Vidyalaya, highlighting how this critical welfare measure is ebbing away, impacting the health and concentration of children from the poorest families.
Compounding this institutional neglect is the toxic air they are forced to breathe. “Even during sports period, teachers tell us not to play because of the pollution. How can we study when it hurts to breathe?” asks Abhay. The smog is not just an environmental crisis; it is a daily assault on their right to learn and play safely.
This triad of decay – infrastructure, nutrition, and environment – paints a stark picture of a regime that prioritizes grand narratives over the grounded realities of its youngest citizens. The struggle is for the very basics, a fight for a future that the present system is actively breaking.
Outdated curriculum and non-existent extra curriculars
The classroom under the current regime reveals a deeper malaise: an education system that stifles critical thought and holistic development. For students like Aradhya in Class XI, the curriculum feels like a relic. “Our history textbook changes narratives, and our science chapters are outdated. We are learning about technology that no longer exists, while the world moves ahead,” he observes. This biased and archaic syllabus prioritizes rote learning and a singular worldview over analytical skills, leaving students unprepared for modern challenges.
This intellectual confinement is compounded by the utter vacuum of extracurricular activities. Preeti, in Class IX, laments the absence of avenues for creative or physical expression. “There are no debate clubs, no proper sports coaching, no art classes. Our ‘activity period’ is usually just a free period where we sit idle. How are we supposed to discover our talents?” she asks. The systematic dismantling of everything beyond the textbook reflects a vision of education that is transactional, aimed at producing compliant exam-takers rather than curious, well-rounded citizens.
Together, this creates a stifling ecosystem. The biased curriculum narrows the mind, while the lack of extracurriculars kills the spirit. It is a dual attack on the very essence of education: the joy of inquiry and the development of character.
For Aradhya, Preeti, and millions like them, school has become a tedious exercise in conformity, where the syllabus ignores the present and the system denies them a future full of possibility.
Untrained teachers and insensitive school environment
The discriminatory and insensitive approach of teachers and everyday realities inside classrooms speaks Abhay, from Class XI rarely make it into official reports. A major concern is that many teachers remain outdated in their teaching methods, unwilling or unable to update their pedagogy in line with changing academic needs. This directly affects the quality of education and has only worsened after the implementation of NEP 2020, which students feel has diluted academic depth rather than improving it.
Several students point out the presence of casteist behaviour, and how it influences how they are treated. Alongside this, many teachers hold orthodox mindsets, creating an environment that discourages questioning and critical thinking. “Although there is a formal mechanism to complain students can submit letters to the principal this process is largely ineffective”,says Abhay, as complaints rarely lead to accountability or structural change.
More worryingly, students report that teachers avoid openly discussing sensitive issues in class, while at the same time some engage in ideological practices, including association with RSS shakhas, which indirectly shapes classroom discourse. There have been instances of hate speech practiced by teachers, particularly targeting Muslim students, making classrooms unsafe and exclusionary.
On the academic front, while English classes are relatively decent and options like Japanese as a foreign language are appreciated, the availability of Punjabi and Sanskrit as third-language options reflects a limited and selective linguistic framework. Infrastructure also remains neglected, with outdated laboratories that hinder practical learning. Overall, the presence of biased teachers, institutional silence, and declining academic standards point to a systemic failure that urgently needs redressal.
Increasing surveillance and decreasing access
Jamia Millia Islamia, a central university, houses five schools under its administrative purview. In principle, students enrolled in these schools should benefit from proximity to a university ecosystem – libraries, academic departments, museums, amphitheatres, and sports facilities that foster exposure to higher education. In reality, however, students of Jamia schools are denied access to almost all such spaces.
“We are never allowed inside the university campus. We have only heard about the libraries, fests, and museums, but guards scold, insult, and harass us if we try to enter any area beyond our school,” says Kanika, a Class 11 student of Jamia Senior Secondary School for Girls. This physical segregation reinforces a culture of surveillance rather than learning. Although Jamia University lacks a student union, its senior secondary schools conduct student elections for posts like sports captain. While this appears democratic, students describe it as a “paper democracy,” where only teacher-favoured, compliant students are selected. Shaheen, a Class 12 student, recounts being barred from contesting because she was considered “too vocal” for demanding library access and sports resources.
Compounding these issues are steep fee hikes, deteriorating infrastructure, limited hostel availability, restricted lab access, and the conversion of schools into “self-financed” institutions – moves that disproportionately exclude marginalized minorities. Girls students also report routine discrimination and harassment by teaching staff, further constraining their ability to envision equitable futures.
“Our dream school”
In stark contrast to the grim reality, students like Ritika from Class XI articulate a vision of what education could, and should, be. “Our dream school isn’t about grand buildings,” she clarifies, “but about teachers who facilitate, not just dictate. We need academic clarity that helps us excel, not just memorize.” This vision centers on a pedagogy of empowerment, where excellence is achieved through understanding and critical engagement via debates and discussions.
The blueprint prioritizes holistic growth. It demands a central focus on sports and co-curriculars like debating, not as token activities, but as essential pillars for building confidence, teamwork, and voice. “It’s about diversity and real societalawareness,” Ritika emphasizes, imagining educational excursions that connect classroom theory to outer community, and a curriculum that embraces multiple perspectives.
Crucially, this dream school is fundamentally democratic and sensitive. It requires teachers who are sensitized to students’ social locations and mental health, creating a safe space for all. “We need proper student body elections, not just prefect appointments,” she insists, highlighting a desire for meaningful participation in shaping their own educational environment.
This is more than a wishlist; it is a political demand for an education system that liberates rather than limits. It underscores how far the current regime has strayed from the constitutional ideal of education as a tool for social transformation and equitable opportunity. Ritika’s dream school is, ultimately, a call to struggle for the very soul of Indian education.